


never never quite touch anything

by bereft_of_frogs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Divergence - Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Fear, Fear of Falling, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Marvel Trumps Hate 2019, Nightmares, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, Panic Attacks, Past Suicide Attempt, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bereft_of_frogs/pseuds/bereft_of_frogs
Summary: “Would you prefer to go to Stark…or Strange?”Loki stops, his hand suspended over the glass. “That depends, I suppose,” he says bitterly. “On which is more likely to cast me into a never-ending fall.”Loki falls in Strange’s sanctum and doesn’t get back up. His mind takes him somewhere else. What follows gives Thor a terrifying glimpse into where he went when he fell.aka: Loki and Thor deal with both of their fear of falling as they search for a way home in the aftermath of their father's death.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 329
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	never never quite touch anything

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ktspree13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ktspree13/gifts).



> Additional warnings: implied past torture, panic attacks, discussion of a past suicide attempt
> 
> Written for @ktspree13 as part of the Marvel Trumps Hate 2019 event, who asked (a while ago, thanks for your patience!) for an alternate version of the _Ragnarok_ scene, where Loki's PTSD is triggered by the perpetual fall that Doctor Strange traps him in. Things, uh, went off from there and I ended up exploring a bit of how they both are left with emotional scars from the fall. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“When it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff, whirled in a centrifuge, and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never-- quite--touched--bottom--never--never--quite--no not quite--touched bottom... and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either... never... quite... touched... anything.”

\- Ray Bradbury, _Fahrenheit 451_

Loki is off his game.

Hiding behind the illusion of his father on Asgard for so long has thrown him _off_. He’s become too lazy, too comfortable in his leisure. Too many plays, too much wine, not enough remembering that there are _things_ out there that will come for him if he is not _vigilant_. He allowed himself to become complacent, and if he does not act fast to correct his mistake, he will pay for it.

The magic swirls up around him, sparking in a little ring and he reacts a second too late.

“Loki, is this you?” Thor, always quick to blame him, of _course_.

“It’s not me, it’s-” Loki huffs in frustration, finds the base string of the power encircling him and gets ready to dispel it. Another moment, if he had _just_ another moment to build the counter-spell, it would have worked.

Instead, he is a second too late, made slow by the sloth of his recent lifestyle and the shock of being unmasked by his wayward brother.

The floor drops out from under his feet and Loki loses all ability for rational thought.

Loki falls endlessly through the dark.

He never stops falling, he has never stopped falling. This is where he belongs, the silent, cold blackness of the place through which he falls. He is Prince of the Void, God of Suffocating Blackness. He chose it himself, after all. He let go, once. That choice is where it all began. This is where he belongs, what he deserves.

The drop, constant. The wind whips by his face, stealing his scream. He shuts his eyes against the dark, because what good does it do to watch the nothing surrounding him.

But sickeningly, he clings to the fall. As much as the fall is awful, the _landing_ -

His mind skips, stumbling over the knowledge of what will happen when he lands. He can’t bear it. Cold tears squeeze out of his eyes, tracking up his temples into his hair.

“Please, no,” He whispers, through a raw and wrecked voice. “Please no, let me die here. Let it not-” He chokes. “Please.”

No one is listening. The quality of air abruptly changes, the sudden brightness blinding him. The ground rapidly approaches. He strikes it, the hard smooth stone slamming into him. He keeps his eyes shut against the brightness, hands clamped tight over his head, as if he could hide from his fate.

\- - -

Thor expects himself to feel anger, or betrayal, at his father’s confusing and disappointing decision to apparently remain in exile, but he merely feels _tired_. There are still a few burns from his fight with Surtur that sting as they heal. Weariness and the desire for rest pull at his bones. He was expecting to return to Asgard for a bath, drinks and laughter with his friends in the tavern, and a warm bed the likes of which he hasn’t seen in months.

Instead he gets a _mess_. A chaotic, quite-literally-on-fire mess that apparently _he_ has to clean up. Thor sighs and hefts his ‘umbrella.’ Wherever Strange has stashed Loki, his brother’s precise illusion holds over Mjolnir.

“I suppose I need my brother back.” His treacherous, lying, brilliant, _alive_ , snake of a brother, who he is so, so angry at. (But also so, so _relieved_ , near dizzy with relief, that Loki is alive at all to be angry at.)

Strange nods and waves a hand and that golden, sparkling magic spins out from his hand in a circle. A hole opens in the air above them and Loki comes crashing back into the sanctum, all flailing limbs and twisted clothing. He falls to the floor and doesn’t move to get up.

There is silence for a moment, but then Strange claps his hands together and says, “Right, now if you could just be on your way…”

“Loki,” Thor says with a sigh. “Get up.” Loki doesn’t move. He breathes raggedly, hair falling before his face. His hands are clamped over his head, fingers tangled in his hair. He is trembling, surely in fury. Probably building up to a roaring confrontation with the human sorcerer that Thor will have to break up. Thor sighs and looks down at Loki’s prone form, reluctantly braced for the attack.

“I’m hoping you’ll take Odin back to Asgard…as _soon_ as possible,” Strange says pointedly. He clearly wants them off his realm, quickly. Thor cannot help but understand. Loki brought much chaos and destruction to this city, not all that long ago. New York has only begun to heal from the scars of the battle, it is only natural that they'd prefer not to court further danger. And besides, it is time for Thor to bring Loki home and begin to put Asgard back together, start working their way through this mess.

What will he do with him? What will _Father_ do with him? Thor looks down at his brother. Loki has still not moved to rise, remaining flat on the floor with his head down, bracketed by his hands. His breath is fast, but not strained. It does not seem that Loki has been injured - this is surely just another game, another set of dramatics.

“Loki.” Thor is losing patience. “Get up!”

Loki still does not move. Strange takes a step back, looking warily at Loki’s prone form. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“Very likely,” Thor says. He approaches his brother, bends down to grab Loki’s arm, to drag him up-

The moment Thor’s hand so much as brushes the fabric of his clothing, Loki makes an inhuman sound, deep in his throat. He flinches away so violently that Thor jolts back as well.

“Loki-” Thor reaches towards him again, more cautiously this time, like reaching out to calm a skittish animal.

He doesn’t even get close this time. Loki’s magic, uncontrolled, panicked, lashes out and sends both Thor and Strange skittering backwards.

“Loki!” Thor calls. He tries to take a step forward but he is stuck, trapped by the magic. “Loki, _enough!_ Listen to me-”

Loki finally rises from the place he fell, but he does not make to attack. It would be easy to attack them now, while they were bound by magic, the natural progression of his furious rampage. But he will not even look at either of them. Loki puts his back to the wall, curling into himself and covering his face with his hands. He is shaking. Thor’s anger begins to transform into horror, and worry. Strange makes a gesture with his hands and the magic binding them releases. Even that makes Loki flinch with a soft cry.

Through the bewilderment, Thor’s heart breaks.

He approaches cautiously. “Loki,” He says. “Brother…” When he gets too close, Loki strikes out again, but it’s unfocused, panicked. There’s a brush of magic blowing past Thor’s cheek but it does nothing. Loki’s missed. Thor manages to nearly catch Loki’s wrists, but the second bolt of magic doesn’t miss. It strikes and sends Thor stumbling back again.

“Don’t _touch me!”_ Loki’s voice is nearly unrecognizable, it is so ruined. “You filthy creatures, don’t _touch_ me, not again, I will not bear this again-” He fires another magic bolt blindly and a mirror shatters just above Strange’s head.

Strange raises his hands. “I can restrain him-”

“No,” Thor snaps. “Stay back. I’ll take care of this.” He’s rather had enough of this mortal sorcerer and his meddling. It’s uncharitable, but Thor doesn’t really have the patience to deal with him _and_ whatever’s going on with his brother. And something dire _is_ going on. Thor has never seen Loki like this before. So Thor tries again, stamps down his own frustration to kneel again before him. He doesn’t move to touch him. “Loki,” He says gently, voice low. “Can you hear me?”

“How did you know my name?” Loki’s voice is wrecked, raw. “I have not screamed it yet.”

Thor takes a deep breath. “I know your name because you are my brother. Do you know me?” He extends a hand in a calming gesture, an open palm, careful not to get too close. Loki shivers but there is no swell of magic, and he does not lash out again.

“No…Thor? I…fell…”

“Yes. You fell, but you’re safe now.”

“Where are we?”

“Midgard. In the residence of a mortal sorcerer.” Thor glances back at Strange, hoping that his pointed glare keeps the sorcerer at a distance.

“What?”

“I will…I will explain later, brother. For now, know that we are safe and you are not falling.”

Loki finally raises his eyes and drops his hands. The curtain of his hair parts to reveal his bone white, stricken face. “Midgard. Not… _there_.”

Thor has no idea what he’s talking about. “No. Not there.”

“But I was…I was _falling_.”

The image flashes before Thor’s eyes. Loki, disappearing into the darkness. The sudden weightlessness of Gungnir as Loki let go of the staff and fell.

Thor shakes his head. “You’re not falling anymore. You are safe, brother.”

The tension drains out of Loki’s shoulders all at once. He sways. The air leaves his lungs in a long whoosh, the inhale isn’t quite long enough to refill them. He breathes shallowly, insufficiently. His hands ball into trembling fists on his knees.

Thor grows alarmed. “Loki, you need to _breathe_.”

It’s clear he can’t, can’t slow his heaving chest. He gasps for air like a fish out of water, eyes wide. He doesn’t shy away now when Thor touches him, and instead leans towards him.

Thor forces Loki’s head between his knees, resting his hands on the back of Loki’s neck and slowly stroking the taut muscle with his thumbs as Loki struggles to get his breath under control. “Shhh, breathe, it’s okay.” Thor rests his chin on Loki’s bowed head. “It’s okay.” He just keeps whispering it, equally to calm his own racing heart.

An hour ago, Thor was furious at his brother. He couldn’t even look at him. That is all washed away. None of it matters in the face of Loki’s clear terror, their twin intersecting traumas over that one moment where it all ended. When Thor struggled to hold on and Loki let himself fall into the Void.

A glass of water materializes at Thor’s side. He glances up at Strange. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Thor manages to get Loki to drink the water. When it’s gone and the glass is empty, he’s calmer, his breath slower and his eyes not so wild. But he still will not quite look at either of them. His gaze is far away. He doesn’t seem to fully know where he is, but responds when Thor nudges him to get his attention.

“Are you with us?” Thor asks. He doesn’t want to ask if Loki is okay, because it’s clear he is not, and it’s the only thing he can think of to ask.

Loki nods. “Yes. I - yes. Midgard.”

“Yes,” Thor says patiently. “Not the Void. Not falling.”

Loki looks at him straight in the eye finally. There’s something odd in his expression. “No. Not anymore.”

Strange shows them to a dusty guest bedroom on the second floor.

“We haven’t had anyone stay in a while,” Strange says sheepishly. He awkwardly waves a hand and rids a lamp of cobwebs. “But you should be comfortable here for the night.”

“Thank you,” Thor says. “We appreciate it.” He hopes Strange detects the note of dismissal in his voice.

He evidently does. He nods once awkwardly, glances at Loki with a guarded, guilty look in his eye, and then leaves them alone.

Silence, as Loki examines the room while carefully avoiding looking at Thor.

“Were you hurt?” Thor asks.

Loki shakes his head. He runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back. “I’m fine.” But when he rolls up his sleeves, there are blooming bruises on his elbows.

“Come here,” Thor says and takes his wrists. Loki flinches, but doesn’t pull away. Thor carefully checks him over. He has bruising on his arms and some tenderness in his ribs, but there doesn’t seem to be any broken bones or serious injuries. His mind however, still seems to have taken him somewhere far away. He mutely tolerates Thor’s examination, gaze in the distance. Thor touches his shoulder. “You should rest.”

Loki blinks. “I’m fine,” he says again dully. His gaze focus and he stands, crossing his arms. “You still have not explained what we’re doing here.”

“It hardly seemed the time, you were barely aware of your surroundings.” Loki huffs in a distinctive familiar way, finally turning and looking at Thor. He looks at Thor like he has just said something abysmally stupid. His face is still pale, there is tension in his shoulders, but he is already acting more like his usual self. Thor presumes that means he has begun to recover from the episode, so he continues, “Earth has sorcerers now, I suppose.”

“Charlatans.”

“Father sought him out. Once he cast off your spells…he purposely did not return to Asgard. This…Dr. Strange knows where he is and promises to show us to him.”

Loki’s brow furrows. “Why did Odin not return?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, for why he allowed you to continue ruling in disguise. I cannot _imagine_ the logic behind such a decision, to let you stay-”

Loki’s face freezes. “You _wouldn’t_ , would you?” he spits back. 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Thor snaps and regrets it. The fragile peace dissipating like smoke. Thor sighs, closing his eyes for a moment to restrain his temper. “Let’s just get some rest. In the morning…we will go find Father and settle this for good.”

“And what will you do with me?” Loki says, voice raw again. “And what will you and Father do with me? Chain me up in the dark again?”

Thor hesitates in responding. “I don’t know,” He says finally, honestly. He’s exhausted. “I don’t know, Loki. I do not know what to do with any of this.” There’s tense silence in the guest bedroom for a few minutes. “We should get some rest. We will take what comes in the morning.”

Loki says nothing else, but nods faintly. He lays down on the bed, on top of the blankets, facing away from Thor.

Thor lays on the other bed and wonders if he’ll wake to Loki’s bed empty. Strange likely has some wards and bonds on the house that will prevent Loki’s flight, or he would not have let them stay unsupervised. But Thor’s too exhausted to consider it further right now.

When Thor is falling asleep, on the edge of drifting off, he thinks about Loki’s words and realizes something odd about them. His cell on Asgard had been bright. The cells on Asgard were always bright, white walls and glowing lamps and fires lighting the halls.

Loki’s cell had been bright.

Before he can really think on it further, the weariness of the long day finally takes its toll and he tumbles into a restful sleep.

Thor wakes and it is still dark outside. He rolls onto his side and is relieved to see that Loki is still there, lying with his back to Thor. It is clear that he is still awake, the line of his body are too tense for him to be asleep.

“You’re not sleeping.” Thor says to his back. Loki sniffles, curling tighter. “You should rest.”

“I am fine,” Loki snaps, but his voice is wrecked. “I don’t need you to…I don’t… _need_ you.”

“Fine,” Thor says, but can’t bring himself to have any venom in the word. He turns on his back, keeping one eye on Loki in the dim light. Loki does not unwind, does not relax. “You are on guard.”

“Of course I am on guard,” Loki hisses. “I-“ He curls tighter. “I was having a fine day, you know, before _you_ crashed into it.”

“Yes, a fine day impersonating-” Thor stops himself. “I’m sorry. Now is not the time.”

“Not the time for us to argue further? I’d have to agree, wouldn’t want to further _embarrass_ ourselves in front of your Midgardian friend.”

Thor wants to further protest that Strange is not really his friend, he just met the man this afternoon, but starting a fight in the middle of the night will help no one. Thor _should_ be attempting to make his younger brother feel safe enough to sleep but he apparently does not know how to do that anymore. It has been too long, between Loki’s fall from grace and his twin deaths. Thor is out of practice.

In the last few years, ever since Loki had fallen into the Void, Thor had had vivid dreams. Dreams that they were still young and Loki had come crying to him about one thing or another and he held him and comforted him.

He can’t get the memory of those dreams out of his head, laying in the dark and struggling to find the right words to say.

Thor rolls onto his back and in a moment decides he’s going to tell Loki. “You know, I used to have these dreams.” Loki startles, but Thor presses on, “When I thought you were dead. It was foolish. I would just dream that we were younger, and you would come to me crying and I embrace you. I never quite remember what it was all about. But you would be crying and I would embrace you. That’s all.” He pauses, listening, but Loki gives no sign of having heard him. “I think it was just…regret, I suppose. It had been so long since I reached out to you. We spent so much of our lives together, and I never paid any mind to your suffering in a century. More. It all fell apart so quickly.” Thor clears his throat, past a sudden tightness. “I suppose my mind took my regret and turned it into those silly dreams.” Thor glances over at the other bed, jolting in surprise when he sees that Loki has turned over, is watching him with a slight frown.

Thor quickly rearranges his expression to calm. “I wish I had done so much of it differently.”

Loki says nothing. He doesn’t seem capable of speaking. Slowly though, he unwinds from his tight ball and staggers to his feet. In two short, hesitant steps he crosses the distance between their beds. Thor moves to make room, throwing back the covers. Loki lays with his back to Thor, but lets him tug him closer, fit their bodies together. It takes a minute or so of shifting, but then they’re both still. Loki still feels tensed, awkward, but Thor ignores it. He rests his forehead against the back of Loki’s head and sighs.

Thor wakes in the light with Loki’s hair in his nose and his elbow in his gut.

“Let me up,” Loki snarls as he stands and straightens his clothes. “It’s morning. If you’re so eager to find Father we should be on our way. I certainly am looking forward to getting out of this stuffy den.”

Thor bites back a comment about the curious nature of Loki’s own eagerness to continue the search for their father and rises. “Strange is rather eager to see the back of us as well.”

“Hm. Strange. What, does he think he’s some sort of…authority here-” His voice is rough again, his gaze haunted. He must be thinking of the fall. Thor feels some return of his fraternal protectiveness, and feels a rush of fury, and the desire for revenge against the sorcerer for what he's done to his brother. It's entirely unfair, Strange would have had no way of knowing the effect it would have, but he can't help the kneejerk protective feeling.

“I suppose he is. I don’t know, I hadn’t met him before, but he does seem to…represent some portion of Earth’s defenses. And if Father came to him…”

Loki’s lips narrow. “I see.”

Thor almost asks about what Loki had saw, when he had fallen from Strange’s portal. His mind had clearly been so far away, seeing something that was not there. Something that terrified him, beyond what Thor had ever seen before.

He opens his mouth to say something and instantly loses his nerve. “Let’s go find Father.” They will have time to talk about it later, once they’ve reunited with Odin and returned to Asgard.

Strange is waiting expectantly for them when they descend the staircase.

“Ready to go?” Strange lifts his hand and an orange glowing circle appears, much like the one that had whisked Loki away when they first arrived on Earth. “This will take you straight to where Odin said he could be found when you came searching. Good luck.”

“Hm. You have my thanks for showing us the way, and for letting us stay the night.” Thor nods at Strange. He looks towards the portal, with anticipation making him uneasy.

Loki will not look at the mortal sorcerer, scowling with his arms folded. He is, dramatically, dressed in all black again, though in trim Asgardian styles with a high collar and a dark cape with a bottle green lining. His hair is neatly tucked back. He looks put together, buttoned up and composed, the opposite picture of the previous afternoon.

Strange looks guilty again. "And I do apologize-"

Loki cuts him off. “Let’s hope that there is nothing nefarious - no amateur _glitches_ \- with this portal.”

“Trust me, I want the two of you out of here as quickly as humanly possible."

Loki draws even with the mortal sorcerer. “You caught me by surprise yesterday. You will not do it again.” Loki sweeps away from Strange and gracefully through the portal.

Thor lets Loki’s threat stand. He claps Strange’s shoulder with a half grin. “Farewell, Strange. Until next time.”

“Hopefully that is not for a very, _very_ long time.”

Thor breaks into a full smile and laughs. "Hopefully." Then he follows his brother through the shimmering portal. He emerges to the smell of the sea, a cold wind whipping at his face, and Loki standing, looking uncharacteristically hesitant and aghast, at their father sitting on a rock and gazing out at the horizon.

\- - -

Just when Thor thinks their lives cannot fall apart any further, the Norns laugh and reveal a new disaster.

In the aftermath of their father dissolving into shimmers of light, the shattering of his hammer into a million shards by a mysterious sister who is now hellbent on murdering the both of them and finding a way back to conquer Asgard, Thor finds himself reaching for Loki, and Loki reaching back. They lean on each other for support, in a way they haven’t in centuries.

They flee Hela’s wrath together and enjoy the longest stretch of time without a fight in years: six days - but they quickly mend things again and move on. They run, to hide from their murderous sister and try to find a way to send her back to Hel, and return home.

Their truce grows into a more stable alliance. Time goes by.

\- - -

“Quickly, Loki!” Thor eggs him on. “She will find us before long, if we do not cross-”

“Yes,” Loki hisses back. He steps up onto the narrow ledge. “I’m aware.”

“Go,” Thor says, gentler this time. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Loki had heard a rumor once on his travels about this place, a deep black pit that was rumored to be a pathway to Hel. At the center, there should be a shadowpath, one that they can perhaps lure Hela to and force her back into her prison. The cave entrance was little more than a slice in the slope of the mountain. The walls had been tight at first, scraping at their skin and forcing them to stoop to pass through. Gradually the path widened until it opened up into large cave system in the center mountain. An hour of hiking in the dark later, the path opens up into a vast cavern, and the pit.

There is a dangerously narrow ledge running along the sides of the pit and an ancient and rusted chain strung along the cliff wall. Local legend said that the people who lived here long ago would come into the chasm to toss sacrifices to the gods into the darkness and ask for favor. Now, millenia later, it is apparently a popular spot for thrill seekers and cave divers.

“You’re sure you have to be in the center to find the path?”

“ _Yes_ , Thor,” Loki growls through clenched teeth.

Thor softens and says again, “I will be right behind you.”

They make their way across, quietly. When they are almost to the halfway point, near where Loki will be able to test for the portal magic, a part of the pathway crumbles under Loki’s foot. Thor moves lightning fast, wrapping his arm around his brother’s back to grip the chain on his other side, hold him securely against the cave wall. Loki’s knuckles turn white from how tightly he grips the chain. Thor feels him shaking. He drops his head, letting his dark hair cover his face. Thor waits, saying nothing, just quietly supporting him against the wall as he recovers. Loki’s chest rises and falls rapidly against his arm as he holds him tight to the wall.

Loki’s ragged breathing slows after a moment. “It’s not here. If it ever had been, it is closed now.”

“Okay. Can you move?”

Loki lifts his head and nods tightly.

“I can stay close.” Thor doesn’t let up his gentle grip. Loki nods again. “Slowly, brother.”

They make their way back to the entrance of the cave. Loki holds it together until they are back into the streaming sunshine and then he collapses to his knees in the grass and heaves in desperate breaths of air until it turns into hysterical laughter.

\- - -

In the dream, they are children. Thor feels small and weak and ungainly.

Loki is crying. Sniffling, with hitching breaths. Thor can hear it even before Loki rounds the corner. His face is red and splotchy, wet with tears. Thor sits up and pulls the blankets back. Loki clambers up onto his bed, crying all the way.

“What is it?” Thor asks. “What’s wrong?”

Loki just shakes his head and cries harder.

Thor wakes up, with the echo of the crying still in his ears. Loki is laying next to him on the forest floor, sprawled out on the bedroll. He frowns slightly in sleep, as he always does, with a worried, furrowed brow, but is otherwise breathing deeply and evenly, calm.

Thor shuffles a little closer, draping an arm over Loki’s chest. Loki stirs a little, makes a surprised, grumpy sound, but falls quickly back into deeper slumber. Thor buries his nose in Loki’s shoulder and, reassured, goes back to sleep as well.

In the dream, Loki is falling. _Again_. He can feel the jolt in his stomach, the wind whipping by his face and freezing the tears on his cheeks. He doesn’t feel landing - doesn’t have to suffer the impact this time. But he is suddenly aware he is prone, laying on his stomach with his head down and his hands clamped over his skull.

He tries to control his rapid breathing. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to shrink smaller. There are figures, bodies, moving around him. He can feel them, _feel_ their presence, the vibrations of their steps on the stone.

_Perhaps_ , he thinks. _Thor…and the mortal sorcerer..._ He dares to foster a flicker of hope in his heart.

The hands that grab him are unmistakably Chitauri.

He doesn’t move fast enough to get away. They grab him and drag him up and Thanos’s furious face looms before him, his massive hand reaches out to strike-

Loki wakes screaming. He struggles against the confining grasp of the blankets, unable to take a deep breath or coordinate his movements. Panic, sheer terror, are the only things he can focus on.

It takes time, but gradually, he becomes slowly aware of himself again. His mouth is moving, babbling. He is bent forwards, head between his knees, held there by familiar, warm, calloused hands. He manages to shut his mouth, stop the stream of mutterings, and take a deeper breath in.

Thor says nothing. Just keeps stroking the taut muscles of his neck with his thumbs. It feels more soothing than Loki would ever admit out loud.

The dream is not easily shaken off. Perhaps in the morning, Loki can salvage his dignity, but for now, he seeks whatever comfort he can get. The scraps he had begged for while Thanos’s _guest_. He presses forward, folding himself into his older brother’s chest and letting Thor hold him.

He does bury his face in his hands to hide his tears though.

\- - -

The thin metal barrier was likely good enough to stop a mortal from slipping off the edge of the roof by accident. It is not quite enough to stop two gods being thrown off by their murderous sister’s thralls.

The creatures have only primitive magic, but in an unlucky moment they manage it. Thor barely manages to grab Loki’s hand and a pipe jutting out over the side of the building. They dangle, hundreds of meters above the ground. They swing in the wind, a monstrous echo of the position they once found themselves in. There is no staff between them, no Odin to hold Thor from falling. Thor is holding Loki’s hand this time - flesh, cool but alive flesh and he holds as tight as he can.

“Let go,” Loki says, voice hoarse. Thor feels his hand slipping on the pipe above them. He can’t hold both their weights much longer.

“No,” Thor says, squeezing Loki's hand tighter. But Loki’s expression grows frustrated and desperate.

“No, let go of the _pipe_ , you _fool!”_ Loki manages to reach up another hand and close it around Thor’s forearm. “Let go!”

The ground is so far away. Infinite miles away, it seems. They will fall. Loki’s face is calm, blank - no, it’s not. It’s _not_ the smooth mask that had settled over his features as he dangled over the abyss. Loki’s expression is frightened, stressed, near panicked, but nodding, imploring. Thor can no longer tell the difference anymore. The memory and the present blend together. He manages to focus when Loki calls to him again, “Do it, Thor! _Let go_.”

Thor lets go.

They only fall for a second before Loki’s magic wraps around them. A shimmering green light flashes and mere moments after Thor releases his grip on the pipe they hit the ground - soft grass, in a meadow. It is dusk, wherever Loki’s transported them, and they are in a clearing. There are only the soft sounds of the forest, no city, no Hela.

They catch their breath in the tall grass as the light fades.

“Don’t you…don’t you _ever_ do that again,” Thor manages to growl through gritted teeth.

“Apologies. I couldn’t get us both in the spell at that angle. Letting go…was the most expedient way to get us through the portal. Though obviously not the most…pleasant.” Loki looks very white in the fading light. Thor’s chest feels tight.

“You…you _fool_ , Loki, you’re mad-”

“I did what I had to do.” Loki’s teeth are chattering from how badly he is shaking.

Loki is afraid of heights, and falling. Thor knows it very well now. But he had set aside his fear to save them both from Hela’s latest assassination attempt.

Thor grasps his brother’s shoulder, squeezing. His eyes sting. He wants to say something encouraging, about the nobility of Loki’s action, or his bravery. But he finds he cannot speak, can only sit in the quiet reassurance that they have both survived and not fallen as the sun sets and the lightning bugs emerge and flit around them.

\- - -

It’s not until they’re back in New York that Thor brings up what happened in the Sanctum again.

They have been dancing around it, like they had all their little moments of panic in the past weeks. They allow each other their momentary panics, their small breakdowns and periodic nightmares, but don’t dwell on them. They deliberately avoid discussing the past, allowing both the avoidance of returning to traumatic moments and for their quiet truce to stand during their struggle against Hela.

They are beaten, discouraged from the flight from Hela and for a way home, seeking shelter in an abandoned building in New York.

“We may have to risk going to Stark,” Thor says to his brother’s back. “I know how you feel about this but we are running out of options.”

Loki sighs. He doesn’t turn around from where he is warding the windows.

“Would you prefer to go to Stark…or Strange?”

Loki stops, his hand suspended over the glass. “That depends, I suppose,” he says bitterly. “On which is more likely to throw me into a never-ending fall.” He goes back to casting his spell.

Thor watches him work. He thinks back to the day Loki fell into Strange’s sanctuary, and the episode he had suffered after the fall. He thinks about the things that didn’t add up, that clicked more with the odd things he said after nightmares than with his fear of heights.

“Loki,” Thor starts hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking about that day.”

“Have you?”

“There are things…things I do not understand, brother.”

Loki finishes the spell and rises. His shoulders are tight, hunched up towards his ears. “What of them?”

“It is just…things you said.”

“I barely remember what I said,” Loki snaps. “I was…I was out of my mind, I was reeling from being trapped in that infernal loop by your dear sorcerer friend, I didn’t know what I was saying-”

Thor doesn’t let himself rise to the bait of Loki’s verbal lashing. “I do not doubt that, and I will not defend Strange for what he did. True, he didn’t understand the full depth of what he was inflicting on you, the memories he was unearthing-”

“I thought you _just_ said you would not defend him.”

“But there is more. There must be more.”

“More _what_ , Thor? More trauma? Is that what you wish for me, to be _more_ haunted, I did not believe that would be the desire of my _dearest_ older brother-”

“Yes, Loki. Yes, more trauma.” Thor steps closer. Loki doesn’t move. “What happened when you landed?”

Loki gasps raggedly. He doesn’t answer.

“Loki. Where were you for that year? We thought…we _truly_ thought you were dead. We could not find you. Where did you go? Where did the strange paths of the void take you? What happened when you landed?”

Loki’s knees waver and Thor catches him, gripping him by the upper arms. He guides him to sit against the warded windows.

“You have to tell me, Loki,” Thor says softly. His hands feel too unwieldy - weathered and made too rough with callouses - to comfort his brother. He wraps one hand around the back of Loki’s neck, a familiar gesture, the other squeezing his shoulder.

Loki will not make eye contact. He stares at the bricks somewhere above Thor’s shoulder. “No.”

“You have to tell me,” Thor suddenly chokes on emotion. “You have to tell me what happened after you fell.”

“I can’t.”

“Loki, what happened here? What _happened?_ You invaded this city and I’ve long thought that there was a larger game at play…”

“Thor, stop. _Please_. Stop,” he whispers.

“You have to tell me. We must be ready, for this, for Hela and whatever else the fates will throw at us-”

“I can’t.”

“Loki.”

“You know I meant to do it.” Loki’s voice changes. It loses it’s rough, whispery quality and becomes sharp, direct. His eyes suddenly snaps to Thor. “You tried to tell yourself I slipped, didn’t you? You tried to make yourself forget, make yourself remember something different than what happened. That’s what minds do to protect you. And once you start, oh, it’s so easy.” Loki’s eyes are shining. He smiles but it is odd, strained. “It’s so easy to trick your own mind, separate the hard truth from the prettier fantasy, what you wanted to happen. You did that, when you convinced yourself I’d fallen. When you _made_ yourself forget that I let go.”

Thor can say nothing. His throat feels like it’s closing. He can’t bring himself to move.

“I wanted it. I wanted to die. I had just…everything had just…I…” Loki looks away again. He’s started shaking. “I tore everything apart. Odin’s lies did as well, but of course I rained down the final blows. And then…in that moment, with the bridge collapsing around us. I looked into your eyes and saw…and saw how wide the gulf was between us. How _good_ you were, how noble. And how wretched, twisted and ghastly I’d become. That I always was, always had been, the monster.” Loki’s next breath stutters and a tear drips down his cheek. “Everything suddenly became so damned clear. I was the monster…the monster from the stories, the poison in the royal house. Everything from our childhoods…was suddenly so clear. How I tainted everything I touched. I couldn’t live with that. I _hated_ you but it was only a fraction of the hatred I felt for myself. And that’s why I sought to end my life.”

Thor takes a deep, steadying breath. “I…I understand. And thank you for sharing this with me now, even if you felt you could not have then. You are not…what you think of yourself…you know it’s not true?”

Loki laughs bitterly. “Isn’t it? It’s it true that I am the villain and you the hero?”

“When we are battling on the same side against Hela? When clearly you don’t love whatever evil is out there.” Loki shudders violently and turns away. “Brother, I’m glad that you are sharing this with me now. You are right. I did not want…I didn’t want to see what was before my eyes. I didn’t see your pain, I couldn’t understand this hatred you were feeling. I am ready to try and understand.” Thor takes a deep breath. “But, Loki…you say this as a distraction.”

Loki freezes. “Once, you would never had seen through it.”

“I have learned. I have seen deeper pits of despair since I watched you disappear into the darkness. Where did you go? What happened after your fall? What did you see, that day in Strange’s sanctum? _Where did you think you were?”_

“I can’t,” Loki chokes. He wraps his arms tighter around his chest, against the trembling in his limbs, and turns away, near tucking himself against the wall. “If you loved me at all, you would not ask me.”

“Loki. I know you’re afraid-”

“Afraid…ha, you’re right. I’m afraid. But I have a right to be.” Thor takes a step towards him. Loki shies away, pressing against the brick wall. “Don’t!”

“All right. I’m not going to touch you. But please. I’ve been searching so long for answers, Loki, _please_.”

“He’ll kill me. No. That’s a lie. He won’t. Not right away.”

“Loki-”

His next breath is a sob. A tear drips down his cheek. Then he stills, taking a deeper breath. “Thor. His name is Thanos. The place I fell is called Sanctuary. That is where I was taken apart.”

When the accounting is finished, all is said and done, it is raining. The rain pours down in sheets. The roof of their shelter leaks, dripping water into a puddle on the floor. The princes pay the weather no mind. Thor pulls Loki into his arms and lets him sob out the pain and the fear.

There will have to be plans. Both to deal with Hela and now to deal with Thanos. They need to find the Avengers, scattered across the planet. They need to go home.

For now, they embrace as the rain comes down.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my more...handwavy plot AUs. XD I know I didn't really explain most of what's going on and maybe that's a cop-out but I wanted definitely to focus in on the gratuitous hurt/comfort without really having to deal with whatever actually's going on with Hela and their battle with her, etc, etc. There's obviously like...a lot of canon divergence going on off-screen here. I don't know. Hela is doing stuff. I have no idea. This was all about the trauma and the feelings. ;-) 
> 
> Aside from that I hope you all enjoyed! It's always really fun to just write super indulgent hurt/comfort and I had a lot of fun with this one. 
> 
> As always, kudos/shares/comments/frogs appreciated, and [find me on tumblr @bereft-of-frogs](https://bereft-of-frogs.tumblr.com/) for further shenanigans and definitely more indulgent hurt/comfort coming in the future. ;-)


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